


Drowning in Space

by FindingSchmomo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Astronauts, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, International Space Station, JAXA, Language Barrier, M/M, NASA, Near Death Experiences, Secret Santa, astronaut! iwaizumi, astronaut! oikawa, background ocs out of necessity, iss, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 16:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17084045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FindingSchmomo/pseuds/FindingSchmomo
Summary: Oikawa isaddictedto space, there is no other way to put it.It worries Iwaizumi to no end.





	Drowning in Space

**Author's Note:**

> this is my secret santa fic for [interstellartooru](interstellartooru.tumblr.com) you wanted Iwaoi space cuddles and I hope this delivers!!!

“I miss bread.”

Iwaizumi looks up, catching sight of Williams floating by their makeshift table. She’s with Jones, who nods grimly at her statement. Iwaizumi shrugs for his part, he misses fresh rice way more. 

He unscrews the peanut butter jar, sticking the lid to the velcro on the tiny counter. He lets the jar float as he grabs his tortilla, then takes a spoonful of peanut butter to spread it out. It’s an easy meal that Jones had taught him back when he and Oikawa first arrived on the International Space Station. He’d grown fond of it. 

He lets his tortilla float as he screws back the lid on the jar, sticking the whole thing back down and grabbing the jelly. He opens it, fetching his tortilla back from where it had rose slightly above his head to spread it on the other side. Then he folds the thing together. Done. 

He’s starving. 

After sticking the Jelly jar back down safely, he grabs a railing with his free hand to push himself toward where the Americans are eating. They are floating around the tiny square table, munching away at their own simple meals.

“The crumbs can’t be  _ that _ bad,” Williams is saying.

“They are. They could get everywhere. Suck it up.” Jones replies.

Iwaizumi doesn’t comment, taking a bite of his tortilla, and doing a mental log of everything he needs to do today. He needs to continue logging his experiment, because the prime minister is calling tomorrow. He’ll need to make sure Kibo is tidy and presentable for video casting. The whole call will most likely be televised all around Japan. He’ll have to remind Oikawa too, since he’ll want to lead the whole check in. 

Speak of the devil, Oikawa comes floating into the module, brushing up against Iwaizumi as he turns toward the counter in the cramped space, “Hello!” he says, in English, waving to them all, voice cheery.

Oikawa is more confident in his English than Iwaizumi is. 

The Americans return the greeting before getting back to their silly conversation. Iwaizumi watches as Oikawa makes his own lunch, humming along to some tune Iwaizumi can’t place. It must be a song Williams introduced him to through the extensive music library she brought up with her.

When Oikawa finishes his own pseudo-sandwhich, he floats over to the three of them, hooking a foot around Iwaizumi’s ankle to keep himself in place. Iwaizumi is about to complain when Oikawa speaks up instead, “Braginski and I switched shifts. I am going out next,” he says, accent smooth, but sentences still clunky.. 

“How does Braginski manage to get out of everything,” Jones grumbles, blowing out a puff of annoyed air. He stuffs the rest of his tortilla into his mouth.

Oikawa shrugs. 

“もう一度彼に切り替えた？”  _ Did you make him switch again? _

Oikawa glances over at Iwaizumi, never letting his face betray his smile, “僕は外に出たい”  _ I want to go outside. _

Iwaizumi wants to argue, but he feels self conscious speaking in Japanese in front of the Americans who can’t parse it when they’re speaking so fast. The two are much better at Russian. So he drops it, for now, but makes a note to bring it up before the day is over, when they’re alone. 

“You guys are almost finished here right?” Williams points out, recentering the conversation in English, “Might as well take advantage of space while you can.”

“Exactly,” Oikawa nods, grin growing. He’s pointedly ignore Iwaizumi now, which is annoying. Maybe he won’t remind him about their telecast tomorrow, and just watch Oikawa flounder on the spot.

(Except, Oikawa never flounders on the spot, especially in front of a camera. The bastard.)

Iwaizumi pushes back, kicking away Oikawa’s leg to release his own, “I go workout,” he notifies briskly, turning away to grab at the railing by the ground. He uses it to thrust himself out of the module and into the next, floating down the small corridor. He maneuvers around the clutter strapped into the walls around him.

He glides into node three, where their exercise equipment is. He grapples with the side railing to stop moving. He levels himself to hook into the straps of the treadmill and starts to run. He hates how the straps tug into his shorts, bunching the fabric in weird places, but he tries to focus on his heartbeat instead, and not on Oikawa’s stupidity. 

Oikawa is stupid.

He’s not, objectively speaking. You can’t be an astronaut  _ and _ stupid. He’s brilliant, hardworking, charismatic and a complete and utter nerd. But he’s also a foolhardy adrenaline junkie and an idiot. 

Oikawa has done the most spacewalks out of everyone else in the space station. It’s ridiculous. Space walks are one of the most dangerous aspects of the job, done only when necessary to undergo maintenance, but Oikawa jumps at every chance. Constantly trading shifts and begging to go out. 

Oikawa is  _ addicted _ to space, there is no other way to put it, and as the weeks close in on the day of their departure, the fever in him has only worsened. 

It worries Iwaizumi to no end. 

He can’t help it.

So many things can go wrong on a space walk. If his tether breaks he could drift off into endless space forever. A cut in his suit could kill him. It’s the most dangerous place a person could be in. And yet, Oikawa lives for it. 

Iwaizumi slows in his running trying to focus his attention on an imaginary dot ahead of him. Oikawa is fine. He’s been fine this whole time, and he’ll continue to  _ be _ fine. He’ll smack him upside the head during dinner and they’ll be done with it. And then, when they’re alone, maybe he can reason with him. Maybe. 

The alarm rings.

Iwaizumi tears the straps from his legs, thrusting himself out the node with the use of a side railing. The lights are flashing as he heads to the central node to figure out what’s going. Is there a fire? In the Russian end? That would be one of the worst case scenarios. He bites his lip.

Williams and Jones are already floating by the central node, talking on the radio phone to what Iwaizumi must assume is NASA. 

“はい,”  _ Yes _ , Williams says, accent awkward in the phone, and Iwaizumi realizes she isn’t speaking with NASA at all, but JAXA. Williams looks relieved to see him and hands over communication quickly, shoving herself backwards into Jones to give him more room.

Iwaizumi greets the caller appropriately before asking, “What’s wrong?”

“Oikawa-san’s suit is malfunctioning, get him inside immediately.”

“How is it malfunctioning?” Iwaizumi asks, fingers tensing as they clutch around the corded phone.

“Unclear, condensation is building up in his helmet. It’s messing with his communicator. Go help him in.”

Iwaizumi hangs up, and after translating the information to his American coworkers, the three of them hurry down the corridor of modules. Iwaizumi uses the bottom railings to thrust him forward, faster and faster, the tremor in his arms betraying his own worries.

“Braginski is with him,” Williams assures from behind him, “He was spotting him from inside. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t want to hear it. Not until he can get a visual. They reach the dock module, finding Braginski in the process of suiting up. Jones wastes no time helping him with the endeavor. 

“Where is he?” Iwaizumi asks, in English. 

“He is close,” Braginski’s voice is as deep as ever but his words come out faster than normal, “But then he got turned around. I think he disoriented. Something wrong.”

Iwaizumi wants to go out instead, but Braginski is already suited up, and there is no time to waste. Instead, he’s forced to watch helplessly as Braginski exits the space station to bring Oikawa back. 

It’s tense as the three other astronauts watch Braginski slowly float out from the window. Braginski is a massive guy, and he blocks a lot of their visuals. He is using the railings on the side of the ISS to maneuver himself carefully across, and once his form doesn’t overwhelm the window, they’re able to see Oikawa too. He’s gripping tightly to the ISS, which is a good sign. It means he’s conscious and able to hold on. Why he isn’t maneuvering toward Braginsky or the dock is beyond Iwaizumi.

Braginski reaches him and Oikawa, after reaching out tentatively, lets go of the station completely to hold on to him. It’s a slow, meticulous process of Braginski carefully backtracking, cautious not to lose his grip. Oikawa’s hold remains strong and finally they’re able to slip into the dock and close the door behind them. 

Iwaizumi waits outside the door, fingers digging claw marks into his palms. It’s brutal waiting for the pair to depressurize so they can reach them. Especially when they’re able to catch sight of Oikawa properly through the little window in the door.

Oikawa’s helmet is completely full of water, distorting anything inside. Iwaizumi can’t really see his face, but he sees bubbles, surfacing faster and faster. He wants to claw at the door, as if that could speed it up and get him in their faster. But that’s stupid. He can only wait. And hope. And worry. 

Finally, the doors open.

Iwaizumi thrusts himself inside first, making a beeline for Oikawa. Oikawa’s movements are sluggish, fumbling weakly with the clasps for his helmet. Iwaizumi swats his hands away and does it himself easily, prying the sphere of Oikawa’s head.

In the zero gravity, the water still hugs at Oikawa’s skin and he still can’t breath it. Iwaizumi doesn’t have a towel with him, so instead of soaking up the water he furiously wipes it away with his hand. He clears the space around Oikawa’s nose and mouth, finally letting the man take in a gasping breath. 

Oikawa coughs and hacks, bending over as he chokes. Jones has grabbed a towel, quickly mussing it through Oikawa’s hair and face to soak up all the water. It allows Oikawa to finally open his eyes. He can’t stop taking in ragged desperate breathes, his chest heaving with the effort. 

“Are you ok?” Braginski asks first, once he’s got his own helmet off, in his thick accented English. 

Oikawa nods, weakly, bringing his head back up. He’s too weak to even begin taking off the rest of his suit. Jones is working on that for him, fingers practiced on all the bindings. 

Iwaizumi is shaking. More blood rushes to his face than normal and he can’t bring himself to speak. His teeth are locked tight together, and there’s a stinging in his eyes. So he turns away, without a single word, and propels himself down the corridor and  _ away _ . Just, away.

“Iwaizumi?” Williams calls, pausing where she’s helping Braginski out of his suit. 

“Let him go,” Oikawa says, voice hoarse and raw. He takes in another deep breath, closing his eyes shut for a brief moment to center. Then he sits up and helps Jones with the rest of his suit.. 

Oikawa reports to JAXA afterwards to confirm his safety. He and Williams examine the suit thoroughly before sending a malfunction report to JAXA and NASA to figure out what must have gone wrong. They retire the suit for now, placing it far from the dock until it can be properly sorted out. 

Oikawa dismisses himself after that, and no one blames him. He floats back to the node that has his sleeping module. His is on the ‘roof’ of the ISS, though once you’re inside there’s no way to tell. He drags himself in, turning his body and slipping into the sleeping bag attached to the wall. He pokes his arms through the armholes and zip himself, snuggled, secure and warm. 

He takes in another shuddering breath, rubbing his face with his hands. It still feels like he isn’t taking in enough oxygen. He hopes the fantom pressure on his chest goes away after some rest. 

Part of him wants to open the laptop attached to the wall, but another just wants him to close his eyes and rest after the panicking ordeal he experienced only a few hours ago. The latter seems to be winning, with his eyes growing heavier and heavier.

The door to his module is tugged open and he widens his eyes, turning his head to look. Iwaizumi is floating there, face stern and mouth grim. His grip on the module handle is tight.

Oikawa smiles despite it all, trying to press himself flatter against the wall to give other man more room. Iwaizumi slips in, pressed up against Oikawa’s front. His hands dig into Oikawa’s sleeping bag to keep him anchored and still.

Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. He sinks into Oikawa, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. Oikawa wraps his arms around him, holding him close. They stay like that for a long time, in the tiny space, closely intertwined and quiet. 

Iwaizumi kisses Oikawa’s neck, since he’s there. A soft lengthy press of his lips, enjoying the feel of Oikawa’s pulse beneath them. Real. Beating.  _ Alive _ .

“You’re an ass,” he says, lifting his face away as much as he can so he can say it clearly. So he can be heard. 

Oikawa huffs, “I didn’t  _ try _ to drown in space.”

“You scared me,” Iwaizumi snaps, fingers fisting tighter around the fabric.

Oikawa doesn’t answer. Instead he wriggles, creating some space so he can unzip his sleeping bag and let Iwaizumi in. 

Iwaizumi shakes his head, “They’ll notice I’m gone.”

“Like they don’t already know,” Oikawa rolls his eyes.

Iwaizumi purses his lips but leans back into Oikawa’s hold, letting the other man zip him in. It’s a very tight fit, but everyone’s used to having no personal space on the ISS anyway. 

“No more shift switching,” Iwaizumi says, voice muffled into Oikawa’s neck.

“Fine,” Oikawa sighs, bringing a hand up to run through Iwaizumi’s short hair, “But if it’s my shift I’m going outside.”

Iwaizumi groans, closing his eyes, “You are insufferable.”

“Just doing my job, Iwa-chan.”

“When we get home, I’m going to kill you.”

“I’m always home when I’m with you.”   
  
“Oh my God,” Iwaizumi pulls back, making a gagging noise, “Unzip me right now. I”m leaving. I can’t believe this.”

“No!” Oikawa whines, cuddling him closer. It rapidly dawns on Iwaizumi that Oikawa has basically trapped him and there’s not much he can do about it. His arms are trapped within the sleeping bag while OIkawa’s are out through the arm holes. He’s an idiot. 

“I hate you,” Iwaizumi hisses, “Let go of me. I need some space.”

“There’s plenty of space all around us.”

Part of Iwaizumi is starting to wish Oikawa did drown, just a little, so that he would stop talking. Oikawa’s mouth being unable to open is becoming vastly more appealing by the second, and so he decides to take action, pulling himself slightly up to press his lips against his. 

Iwaizumi’s the only one allowed to take his breath away. 

**Author's Note:**

> i spent a long time just watching ISS vids of astronauts, i highly recommend doing that. it's super interesting. 
> 
> chat with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/findingschmomo) or [tumblr](findingschmomo.tumblr.com)
> 
> until next time


End file.
